


Gloves

by CapNstuff



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fingerfucking, Fluff and Smut, Force Bond (Star Wars), Mandalorian, Mandalorian Clans (Star Wars), Mandalorian Culture, Mando'a Language (Star Wars), Post-Star Wars: The Clone Wars, Sex, Shameless Smut, Smut, Soft Din Djarin, Touch-Starved Din Djarin, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-23
Updated: 2020-10-23
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:07:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,158
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27155668
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapNstuff/pseuds/CapNstuff
Summary: din starts wearing fingerless gloves.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Reader, Din Djarin & You, Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You, The Mandalorian/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 161





	Gloves

You were reading a book in the co-pilot’s chair when you noticed them. Your whole body was frozen, caught in the stillness of watching his fingers press buttons on the Razor Crest.

Your eyes gloss over every single crevasse, every single scar, every single dent on his fingers. You watched as his hands moved to pull a lever, and his fingers wrapped around the metal. Your eyes widened slightly as he pulled down on it, fingers stretching and dragging.

“I can feel you staring.”

Your head immediately whipped back into your book, your fingers brushing over the pages as if you had never even seen him in the first place. You hear the slow pause that the Mandalorian was giving, just before he slowly turned back to the controls.

The two of you were silent for quite some time, only hearing the sounds of the creeks and rattles from the ship. The night sky was dark and brooding but the light from the stars shown brightly upon your face, making Din occasionally peek over to take a look at you.

You place your book down near the controls, and you pick up your legs and let your chin rest on top of them—just so you could watch the stars and planets across the galaxy.

“I put them on for you.”

He could hear your breath hitch as his gaze slowly turned your way. He watched as you so desperately tried to not meet his gaze, his eyebrow raising in amusement.

All of a sudden, Din stands up and makes his way over to you. Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, not expecting the abrupt movements of his metal armor. You are stunned in silence as he picks you up, dragging you back to the pilot seat where he had you sit on his lap.

“Cyar’ika, do you like them?”

You could feel the rough pads of his fingers against your cheek, and you relished in the feeling—your mouth parted in surprise at how soft his fingers felt against your jawline. Your heart skipped a beat at his sudden affection,

Your eyes blinked rapidly in surprise as he took your open mouth as an opportunity to stick his thumb inside. He watched through the visor as your tongue swirled against his thumb, sucking lightly as your eyes fluttered closed.

He knew you would like this. He knew you would really like this. You never asked him for anything, not even to see what was under that helmet. You respected The Way; you had even told him that you would be fine with never seeing his face if he did not want you to. Any affection that came from him, you had always latched on to, and it made Din feel something inside—something that he has never quite felt before.

“How good you are, ner mesh’la.”

His thumb comes out with a pop, the pads of his wet thumbs rubbing back and forth on your lips. My beautiful. He had a habit of calling you that—it had started when you had gotten injured and your screaming match never seemed to end. Not until he uttered those words, and then you were his.

His hands trailed down from your chin and down your neck. You gulped at the sensation of his fingers wrapping around your throat—fingers curling on the back of your neck.

Inside the helmet, he held such an adoring look for you. He couldn’t help but be completely and utterly infatuated with the sights and smells and feeling of you. His hands moved down to the side of your ribs, feeling the soft silky clothing that floated on top of your skin.

You gasped as his hands moved down to your stomach, so achingly close to your throbbing core. He slowly undoes your silk rope, watching as his supple fingers relieve your body of the confining clothes. You shutter slightly from the torrid air of the ship while goosebumps rose on your skin.

“So pretty.”

He said it just below a whisper, the helmet barely able to catch it through the speaker. He couldn’t help but stare at your body before him, completely breathless from your beauty.

A whimper escapes your mouth as the pad of his slightly wet finger starts to rub gently on your clit. Your thighs clench around his legs and you bit your lip—staring right into the dark visor.

“D-Din.”

You let out a breathy moan as his fingers swirl faster, reaching down to feel your slick folds. You knew he was smirking under that helmet and you knew he was relishing how your body reacts to his touches.

“Look at you, all wet for just my fingers.”

You opened your mouth to respond but could only let out a broken moan due to him inserting his index finger. A chuckle leaves his lips and all you could do was hold onto him for dear life, your fingers practically denting the metal.

His finger started to pump in and out of you; the squelching sounds of your pussy being fucked by his fingers sounded so loud in the cockpit. He moans himself at the feeling of your pussy surrounding his fingers, Your moans started to get louder, an all too familiar ache slowly building.

“M-more, Din. Please, I-I need m-more.”

You were clawing down his metal chest armor, your eyes begging and pleading for more friction. Din had just stared at you for a second, watching patiently as your desperation only rose.

“Of course, sweet girl.”

Your body shuttered at the feeling of him adding another finger, your hips involuntarily ground on his hand—making a feral groan escape his mouth. The sole feeling of his gloves rubbing against your wet folds had made your mouth sling open, the rough and cold feeling of the brown leather was euphoric.

“D-Din, I’m so c-close, please-”

He felt your walls clench around his fingers, the harsh grinding and the fullness his fingers reached was getting you closer and closer towards the edge. Your hands moved down to grip his metal torso, your teeth were gritting

“That’s it, mesh’la, let go. Let go on my fingers.”

His helmet had tilted down, watching as you came all over his fingers—soaking them completely. Your body convulsed on top of his lap as he continued to pound your cunt with his fingers.

He let you ride down your high until your limbs went limp on top of him. Your eyes were screwed shut as you leaned into him, your head resting in the crook of his neck. It was not the most comfortable with his armor on but you honestly did not care, you just wanted to be held.

He wrapped his arms around you, securing you in place. For a small second, he craned his head to give you a keldabe kiss—his hard helmet resting against your forehead.

“I love you, cyar’ika.”


End file.
